It's Just Shaving
by Dawnstorm101
Summary: When Jim is struggling after his coma, Uhura's there to help him through it. (Written for Whumptober 2019)


A/N: This is my entry for Whumptober 2019 Day 1 - Shaky Hands! I had some Jim & Uhura feels and this gave me the perfect way to indulge in those and finally post something for post-coma Jim (I'm only 6 years late shh). Enjoy!

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Jim stared at the razor on the bed tray before him, his hands planted palms down on either side of it. The mirror was set up and the shaving cream applied. All he had to do was pick up the razor and actually shave his beard. Which was simple. Nothing he hadn't done a billion times before.

Except, he hadn't. Not since Khan. He had been stalling, which had worked at first because the radiation screwed up his hair growth, but now he had more than enough growth to drive him nuts. Bones had offered to help, but Jim had just kicked him out, insisting he could do this alone.

Staring at the razor, he didn't know if he regretted that or not.

_Pick it up. Just pick it up._

He forced clumsy fingers to wrap around the handle. It felt like a brick in his hand, heavy and unwieldy. He propped his elbow on the tray, hoping that would take the edge off, but he had already pushed himself today, ignoring all of Bones's warnings, and his weakened muscles just couldn't take it. His hand shook. He grasped his wrist, trying to still it, stiffening his hand against the movement, but still the razor shook.

He tried to push through it. He pressed the razor to his cheek, willing his hand to stop shaking, and dragged the razor down.

He winced at the sharp sting of a new cut.

"Damn it!" he snapped, throwing the razor down. He dropped his forehead into his hands, digging the heels into his eyes. "_Damn it_."

"I've been there."

Jim lifted his head abruptly, blinking away stars to see Uhura coming in.

"Not on my cheek, of course," she said, setting her purse down on the couch beside the door and walking over to perch on the edge of his biobed. She picked up the towel. "May I?"

"…If you must."

"I caught an awful virus when I was a teenager," she went on. Dipping the towel into the bowl of water, she dabbed at the cut to clean it before applying pressure, catching his chin to hold him still when he tried to flinch away. "Even after it healed, I was so tired and weak and just wanted to sleep after school, but I couldn't bear not to shave my legs. I tried it on my own even though my hands were shaking and wound up with a bad cut on my calf. I told the other girls a lie about how I got it. I don't even remember what that lie was."

She pulled the towel away, peering at the cut. Evidently satisfied it wasn't bleeding, she set it down, wiping the shaving cream off her fingertips. "I let my mom help me after that until I got my strength back. It wasn't really the big deal I'd made it out to be."

"It's just _shaving_," Jim protested.

"And you _died_," Uhura shot back. She looked him dead in the eye, dropping the casual act. "By all rights, Jim Kirk, you shouldn't be _alive_ to worry about growing a beard right now. Needing help after what you've been through isn't a weakness."

He dropped his head back against his pillows, looking away from her. "But it _feels _like one."

She sighed. Gently, she carded her fingers through his hair, her tone softening. "Do you know what Spock told me just before I came here?"

"You're about to tell me no matter what I say."

"He told me that Ambassador Spock did the exact same thing you did against his own Khan."

Jim looked at her, her hand shifting with him, fingers still running through his hair. "He did?"

She nodded. "You not only saved the entire crew, Jim, you saved Spock twice more. Once from the warp core, and again from Khan. If your resurrection hadn't given me a reason to beam down when I did…" She shook her head, fingers stuttering in his hair as the image ran through her mind. "You saved the life of the man I love. If you don't want help, then think of it as me repaying a debt."

Her expression was one of insistence and concern. However awkward and helpless he felt, he couldn't deny her that. "Ok," he allowed quietly. "I mean, if me being your hero really means _that_ much to you..."

She laughed with an affectionate eye roll, picking up the razor. "Don't push your luck, Kirk."

He flashed a cheeky grin. "It's what I do best."

"Believe me," she muttered, carefully beginning to shave his stubble, "I know."

He chuckled, relaxing into her ministrations. She continued playing with his hair, shaving with steady strokes, keeping up a light stream of conversation that included a tale of a very entertaining Bones versus Spock argument he'd missed during his coma. By the time she was finished, he had entirely forgotten the indignity of the situation, jaws gaping in a yawn as she toweled off the remnants of shaving cream.

She removed the bed tray and leveled out the biobed, pulling the blankets up to his chin, tucking him in. "Good night, sleepyhead."

"G'night, Uhura," he mumbled, sleep already slurring his words.

She smiled, smoothing his ruffled hair back into place, and left him with a soft kiss on the forehead.


End file.
